


Three Times Shawn Didn't Get to Travel in the TARDIS (and One Time He Did)

by misura



Category: Doctor Who, Psych
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-04
Updated: 2011-09-04
Packaged: 2017-10-23 10:23:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/249253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>“Dude,” Shawn said. “You </i>don't<i> want to go back in time and tell George Lucas not to bother making an extra few bucks by murdering people's childhood dreams?”</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Three Times Shawn Didn't Get to Travel in the TARDIS (and One Time He Did)

.01

“Dude,” Shawn said. “You _don't_ want to go back in time and tell George Lucas not to bother making an extra few bucks by murdering people's childhood dreams?”

Gus scowled. “It was a _prop_ , Shawn. As in: not real.”

“As in: duh, of course they're not going to tell everyone and their grandma it's real. Man, I can't believe you _fell_ for that. What are you, five?”

“I,” Gus said with what was probably supposed to be dignity but actually looked more like indigestion, “am an adult, Shawn. I know there's no such thing as time-travel.”

“You could at least have helped me by distracting those men in black. I mean, they were clearly the bad guys.”

“They were security,” Gus said. Clearly, he'd been brainwashed while Shawn hadn't been looking, which was regrettable, not to mention rather short-sighted of whomever had done it, given that of the two of them, Shawn was clearly the bigger threat to any villain's evil plans. “The con ended over an hour ago, Shawn. We weren't supposed to still be there.”

“Maybe, but that was still a _real_ TARDIS.”

“Leaving aside, for the moment, that there's no such thing: how would you know?”

“Ah.” Shawn smiled triumphantly. “Because it was bigger on the inside than it was on the outside.”

“No, it wasn't. They wouldn't let the public get anywhere near it, anyway.”

It wasn't Gus's fault that he wasn't as smart as Shawn, really, it wasn't. Still, would it have been too much to ask for a friend who was just a _little_ bit quicker on the uptake?

“So how would _you_ know it _wasn't_?” he asked. “And where's the harm in letting people take a look if that was just a perfectly ordinary construction of cardboard and wood?”

“Fine, Shawn, it was the real TARDIS.” Gus sighed, never graceful in defeat. Another failing of his, alas. “And that guy over there is the _real_ Doctor.”

“Oh, now you're just pulling my leg,” Shawn said, not even bothering to look.

 

.02

“I heard the whoosh-whoosh sound, _ergo_ the TARDIS was here,” Shawn said, studying the now empty alley for any sign of TARDISes. It was a bit tricky, given that he didn't actually _know_ what kind of traces a TARDIS would leave, but it looked impressive and it might get Gus to stop insisting he was imagining things.

“ _I_ didn't hear any whoosh-whoosh sound,” Gus said, right on cue.

“The only thing _that_ proves is - “ Shawn started, abruptly shutting his mouth when he saw the three people headed in their direction. They were perfectly ordinary people, really - if by 'ordinary', you meant 'kind of creepy and wearing sunglasses on a chilly day'. “It _was_ your turn to take out the garbage today.”

Predictably, Gus didn't catch the hint. “What?” He did have his back to the three creepos, but, really, Shawn thought he'd trained Gus better than this.

“Oh well, garbage, schmarbage,” Shawn said, gently taking Gus's arm and pulling him in the opposite direction. “I forgive you.”

“What?” Gus said, again. Then he finally, _finally_ caught on and added: “Oh. Thank you uh, Mike. That's very nice of you.”

“Don't mention it uh, Jimmy.” Shawn didn't think Gus looked anything like a Jimmy, really. Then again, Shawn didn't think _he_ looked anything like a Mike.

He did think he should maybe have known there'd be a fourth creepo to make sure they wouldn't get away too easily.

“Just taking my boyfriend for a walk,” Shawn said brightly, opting for the preemptive conversational strike. “You're not homophobic, are you? We could make out a little, if you want us to. To, you know, prove I'm telling the truth.”

The other three creepos caught up with them, one of them reaching inside his (her?) jacket.

“Now, really,” Shawn said, “there's no need to - “ It was a cellphone. “- call 911,” he finished smoothly. Slickly. Coolly.

“We're looking for someone,” Creepo Number Two said. Shawn looked at the cellphone again. Its screen showed a lot of black. “Have you seen him?”

Black, black, black and maybe, in the shadows, some vague shape of what might be a person. Or a scarecrow. Or Shawn's imagination.

“No,” Gus said. “Sorry, we haven't. Can we go now?”

 

03.

“You're not some kind of _fanboy_ , are you?” the Doctor asked, his tone hinting at the horror only experienced by the truly humble upon discovering they were, in fact, being worshipped by adoring crowds. (Having experienced this feeling first-hand, Shawn could sympathize. Being fabulous could be quite a hardship.)

“Absolutely not,” he said quickly. “Doctor who?”

The Doctor looked less than convinced, which was a shame. Had he been less busy mentally high-fiving himself, Shawn might even have gone so far as to say his feelings were hurt. A little. If Gus had been here, Shawn knew the Doctor wouldn't have doubted any of _his_ statements. Gus had an honest, open face.

“I swear I never even read a fanfic. Or wrote one. Especially not one where you're having a threesome with Rose and Martha. I mean, that's just creepy, right?”

Apparently, the Doctor didn't agree, which was - well, okay, Shawn supposed he wouldn't _mind_ if someone were to write a story wherein Juliet finally gave in to the obvious, smoldering attraction between the two of them. They had chemistry; it was undeniable. Although of course the same could be said for him and Lassiter, which - nope, still not really _creepy_ , Shawn liked to think of himself as open-minded, and while Lassiter hardly seemed anyone's ideal date, he did have that whole tall, dark and far too fond of guns thing going on.

“Okay, glad we got that settled.” The Doctor sure seemed a lot more talkative on TV, Shawn thought. Just went to show you. “Can we go now? Pretty please?”

“Where - “ the Doctor started, which was exactly the question Shawn had been waiting for - even though, technically, he felt maybe the question should have started with 'when' given that they were about to embark on a thrilling journey through time with some light, slightly flirtatious banter on the side.

“I made a list.” He'd started when he was ten. “Of, you know, things I think should never have been allowed to happen.” It was a pretty long list by now, which was just a little bit depressing, if Shawn thought about it, which was why he tended not to. The simple act of _adding_ something to the list was almost therapeutic already. The prospect of actually getting to do something with it was -

“Toothbrush?” the Doctor asked.

“What?”

“Have you got a toothbrush with you?”

So. He'd heard correctly after all, even if the question still didn't make a whole lot of sense. “No? Why?”

“Can't very well travel through time and space without a toothbrush, can you? Dental hygiene and all that,” the Doctor said.

“Oh.” Shawn supposed the Doctor had a point. He'd just been - well, they never _showed_ that part on TV, did they? “No, I don't have one with me, but I can totally get one. No problemo. Back in a sec. Later, alligator. Don't go anywhere.”

“Wouldn't dream of it,” the Doctor assured him.

 

(“And that,” Shawn said, “is why I don't trust doctors, not even ones with really cool TV-shows.”)

(Gus did that thing with his eyes he always did when he thought Shawn was being unbearably insightful. “It's a _TV-show_ , Shawn. It's not _real_.”)

(“Yes. I realize that now.”)

 

.01

“Look,” Shawn said, “I'd love to come and, you know, have all these wild, exciting adventures in time and space, where I get kidnapped and threatened and almost eaten by all sorts of creepy things just so you can come and rescue me at the very last minute - which, by the way, _totally_ cheap way of increasing tension. And maybe we could even go on a few not-dates that will make everyone believe we're snogging (that _is_ the correct British term for 'making out', isn't it?), or at least _want to_ , the way it happened with that Jack guy. But I can't.”

The Doctor looked amazed. Well, mildly surprised. Well, very, very, _very_ slightly like he hadn't expected Shawn to turn him down. Although it could also be that Shawn was familiar with the word 'snogging' and had even used it in an actual conversation.

“You see, I have a friend,” Shawn went on. “He's a little bit dumb, sometimes, and his fashion-sense is ... let's not even talk about it. But the point is, he's - “ which was, of course, the moment the door to the TARDIS opened to reveal Gus, looking pleased as punch (Shawn would get the hang of this British American thing yet) and also a little bit annoyed for no good reason Shawn could discern, to say nothing of the part where Gus had just stepped out of something he'd assured Shawn didn't exist mere weeks ago.

“I can't believe you'd rather stand here arguing with Mister Doctor Who - “ (“Just 'the Doctor' will do fine, thanks,” the Doctor muttered) “ - instead of getting in and going on the adventure of our lives, Shawn. Of course,” Gus said with that smug smile he only used when he thought he was about to talk Shawn into doing something Shawn didn't want to do, “ _maybe_ you're just scared.”

Shawn turned to the Doctor. “Does he _really_ have to come, too? I assure you, my English is _much_ more British.”


End file.
